


Dead or Alive

by ChristinaS412



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Universe - Wild West, Aryas an outlaw, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gendrya - Freeform, POV Arya Stark, POV Gendry Waters, POV Multiple, Possible role reversal au??, Sassy Arya Stark, WIP, Wild West AU, blend between show/novel verses, idk tagged it just incase lmfao, rope kink?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-15 05:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19288879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristinaS412/pseuds/ChristinaS412
Summary: Gendry’s heard stories of Arya Stark. Heard she’s as loud as God’s own revolver, and twice as pretty. Read the stories about her daddy dyin’ out on the prairie to a handful’a good for nothin’ outlaws. Even indulged the rumors over a drink at the saloon about what she had done to Old Man Frey down the road. But it’s not until he’s starin’ down the barrel of her pistol, catching the whisper of a smile as she takes him for all he’s worth, that Gendry Waters considers just what he got himself into tracking down a wanted woman.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this all started when I made a tumblr shitpost and here we are 6 hrs later with a sample chapter for a fic I had no intention of actually writing lmfao please enjoy!

“Ms. Stark, I really don’t think you wanna be doin’ this,” Voice was thick with tension his blue eyes trained carefully on the barrel of her pistol leveled against his forehead.

“Think ya got me confused with my mother,” Arya replied as her one hand working to secure the last knot around his ankles. “Ms. Stark was my mother, she’s been gone same as everyone else since those outlaws came and ran down my family last year.” Emphasizing her words with a tight cinch of the rope she cast him a hard look, determination written into every line of her face. He had heard about what had happened, from some men spreading rumors over drinks at the saloon. According to the folks in town some men had decided to ride out for the Stark Settlement, shooting down her youngest brothers as they plowed the fields, and cutting off her fathers head like some wildling savages over some business deal. It wasn’t uncommon out here, the strong and cunning survived. He felt for her, really he did. But he had a job. And if the rumors about her retribution were to be believed, she was just as guilty as the rest of the fugitives he brought in for a living.

Annoyed, Gendry let out a huff, “Listen lady. You might think you’re servin’ some higher purpose. But what you did to Old Man Frey-…You’re wanted for _murder_. Tying up a Marshal ain’t gonna make the hangman's rope any easier ‘round your neck when I take you in.” Not for the first time that day he cursed himself for having been so careless as to camp out on the desert ridge. He might as well have sent up a giant smoke signal for anyone in the valley below. What he hadn’t accounted for was how ballsy she was, saddling up to his campfire while he slept and taking him by surprise. This was certainly a first.

“Ain’t a lady either,” The brunette retorted though she didn’t deny the accusation of murder, tsking his mistake with the whisper of a smile at the corner of her lips. “’Sides, how’re you gonna take me in tied up like this?” She wondered crouching down to his level. Just then her fingers slipped into the pocket of his jacket, clasping around the little sash of coins in his hidden pocket much to his chagrin. “Last I heard that Bolton bastard said he’d pay double to see me hangin’ on the walls like those wildlings he hates so much.” Pulling the coin bag out in the open Arya cocked her head to one side, “feels kind’a light to me.” Arya reflected weighing it in the palm of her hand.

“Look –“

“Arya. Just Arya,” She interjected.

“ _Arya_ ,” Gendry consented, “Y’ have to know this’ll only end one of two ways. You either come in with me, to a good clean death, or you die out here when the others come looking for money and fame.”

Grey eyes bore into him as she considered his offer, her lower lip caught between her teeth in a moment of thought, when she blinked slowly and pulled away coming back to her senses. “Ain’t afraid a’ dying. I know Death, I’ll meet him when my times ready.” She murmured dusting off her jeans. _The fuck did that mean?_ He wondered bewilderedly struggling to think of another way to convince her to stop running. Satisfied with her loot Arya stood to her full height, even then she was still probably a head shorter than him. Making her way back to her steed the brunette tucked the coins into her saddlebag. “Pleasure doin’ business with you, Mr…?”

“Gendry. Marshal Waters, to you,” He bit out between clenched teeth, watching her retreat carefully. Waiting for her to slip up so he could finally retrieve his shotgun from where she had stockpiled his weapons against a nearby tree.

“Nice t’ meet you _Gendry_ ,” She smiled, ignoring the title in favor of his first name. Swinging up into her saddle in one fluid motion the gun still trained in his direction, Gendry found himself at a loss for wards, unsure of what to focus on first; the ease of which she had climbed into the saddle or the way his name sounded so natural slipping out from her lips. Noting his distracted gaze Arya raised an eyebrow in mild amusement, “I’d worry a little less ‘bout me if I was in your shoes. S’ almost sundown and the rattlesnakes’ll want a warm place to sleep near your fire tonight.” Rounding her horse Arya tipped her hat forward, “Shame you have to work for them, could really use a man like you where I’m going.” With that she eased the hammer of her pistol back down, holstering the weapon at her hip and spurred the stallion into a gallop down the path of the ridge.

Nose buried in his bandana to keep the dust cloud she had stirred up from stinging his face Gendry leaned forward, working at the twisted knots around his ankles until they were finally free. All the while watching as she raced across the desert plain below the ridge, committing her path to memory.


	2. Sorry Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does anyone else really love making new friends online or is that just me?? and do you guys have any tips on how to casually bring up that I have online friends in IRL conversations? cause a girls struggling rn lmfao. Anyways boy was this chapter a struggle (when isn't it??) You can thank the Westworld S1 finale for helping me put all my plotbunnies in a wood chipper and spitting them out into some semblance of a chapter!

It would be another week before Gendry crossed paths with the woman that haunted his dreams. A dust storm had blown through the valley a fortnight after she had left him tied up on that ridge, erasing any tracks she had left behind and the little hope he had been holding onto. But there she was all the same, nursing her shoulder near her campfire as dusk settled around them. Her long brown hair shone in the firelight, loose around her shoulders unlike the bun she had worn it in before.

In another life he might’ve been sitting there with her, passing a bottle of whiskey between them. But that was a dream, he had gotten lucky the day he earned his badge. Had worked to keep his life on the straight and narrow with his head down earning what little he could. Gendry wasn’t bout to throw that away for a woman who had left him hogtied and penniless on the side of a mountain. Slowly he stepped forward, crouching behind a nearby rock when the ground began to shake with a thunder of hooves. The firelight of her camp flickered wildly as the group approached, raising a racket of noise sure enough to scare off the coyotes nearby.

“An’ what do we have here boys?” A boisterous voice asked aloud.

Carefully Gendry reached down until his fingers closed around the pin at the back of his badge. As quietly as he could he let the metal fall onto the soft desert sand below him. He was in outlaw country, alone and armed with nothing but two pistols, a lever action shotgun and the buck knife sheathed in his boot. Whoever these men were, that badge was the surest way to get him killed.

The mans laughter stole his attention. Glancing back over the lip of the rock Gendry caught sight of the woman. The cloth she had been using to nurse her shoulder left forgotten by the fire as she stood, pistol drawn.

“An’ why would we do that with a pretty girl such as yourself sittin’ here all alonesome by the fire?” Another man asked, his twisted smile revealing an uneven row of teeth as yellowed as the cloak he wore.

“I ain’t alone,” Arya bit back, chin cocked up in stubborn defiance.

Surveying the men Gendry thought he recognized one or two from the wanted posters lining the walls of the Kingslanding.

“Oh yeah?” One-Eyed Beric questioned from his place at the head of the group, leaning against the horn of his saddle.

“Best leave ‘fore I ask again,” The woman warned again cocking the lever of her pistol threateningly. It was inspiring really, if not a little stubborn, Gendry thought to himself. No doubt Arya knew who she was up against and yet she hadn’t moved an inch since their arrival. Begrudgingly he knew that meant for him.

“Best do as she says boys,” Doing his best to level his voice Gendry stepped out from behind the rock, pistols drawn by his side. Acutely aware of the stiff change in Arya’s demeanor Gendry continued walking until his shoulders brushed past hers to stand in front of the brotherhood.

“Why’s that?” Another man asked, leaning forward until the firelight caught the tips of a bow slung across his back. The archer then, Gendry noted. Anguy had made a name for himself making peace among the natives. It was rumored he could pierce a single bullet from a hundred yards with one of his special arrowheads. He had scoffed when he had first heard the story, but looking at the man now something told him he best make his bullets count before the archer could loose his arrow.

“You’ll be diggin’ your own graves if you do,” Arya retorted spitting the words out between her teeth, the howl of a lone wolf echoing her words.

For a moment silence settled over everyone before Beric let out a boisterous laugh, “Aye ‘m sure we would,” he agreed with a smile, though the look in his eye was cold, “We’re only lookin’ for a fire, off again ‘n the morning.” It wasn’t a discussion, the men would settle here the night whether the stark woman wanted them too or not.

Out of the corner of his eye Gendry could see Arya still mulling the words over, looking for a way out when Anguy spoke up again, “Lem’s got a few hares worth putting over a spit if ya’d like.” That seemed to do her in, slowly releasing the hammer back down.

One by one the men dismounted and settled around the fire until only Arya and Gendry were left standing. Casting him a side long look of suspicion Gendry holstered his pistols before taking the lead and finding a seat off on his own. Once the hare had been cooked and a few spare cans of black beans were shared amongst the men Beric began to open up. According to the vigilante gunman the group had been called to a higher purpose to bring the corrupt to justice. fat chance, Gendry thought to himself though he kept those words to himself. There wasn’t a man among them that wasn’t wanted for one crime or another. The only justice they’d find would be a hangmans rope and a swift death.

Arya seemed mildly interested though, polishing the barrel of her pistol as she listened from her place sitting atop the rock Gendry had been hiding behind earlier. Could really use a man like you where I’m going, her parting words from the ridge two weeks earlier still stuck with him. Where was she going? And what had happened to her shoulder since the last time he had seen her? The gold only came if the girl was found and brought back alive.

Shaking his head to disrupt the thoughts Gendry stood, dusting off his legs and slowly stepping around a few men who had already begun to fall asleep.

“Starin’s rude,” Arya interrupted from behind him, spooking Gendry when he finally made his way back to his mare.

“Fucks sake, thought you’d be back with them.” He muttered busying himself with straightening the stirrups so he wouldn’t have to face her.

“And I thought you were that US Marhsal hired to take me back, guess we were both wrong.” She remarked crossing her arms when he finally turned around. “Why haven’t you?”

Eyebrows knit together in confusion Gendry snorted, “What makes you think I won’t still take you in?”

She stared at him, letting her eyes roam his body for a moment before she shrugged, “I dunno,” unfolding her arms she turned to make her way back to the fire, “You don’t seem like the –“

Her words were cut short when the butt of his pistol knocked her out. “Sorry Princess, but ‘m afraid we’re gonna have to cut this conversation short.” Taking a moment to tie her wrists together and relieve her of the pistol in her belt Gendry hoisted her up into his saddle before climbing up behind her. Snapping the reigns he took off at a slow trot, careful to keep her caged between his arms so she wouldn’t slip as the mare picked up the pace.

No doubt their disappearance would raise a question or two tomorrow when the brotherhood woke up, but until then Gendry would make the best of the extra time he had to get her back safely.

 

* * *

 

 

The rough spun fabric under her cheek scratched at her face as the first rays of sunlight began to peak through the blinds. Groaning, Arya tried to reach up and shut the blinds, wishing for one more minute of silence before her pa would come in and send her out to the chicken coup. A lone gunshot rang out instead, just as the image of her pa’s limp body fell into the field next to Robb’s filled her mind. Startled, Arya sat up in the foreign bed, wrists still tied together when the front door of the cabin snapped open to reveal a familiar face.

Dressed in oiled brown leather, his belt slung low across his hips the Marshall certainly looked better than most of the men she had encountered on the road. A naïve part of her liked to compare him to the cute gunslingers that used to come to town for carnivals Sansa always fawned over. That was childish though. Sansa had been kidnapped – odds were she was as dead as the rest of them. And being blinded by looks was the last thing Arya needed right now, not when that man was being paid by one of her enemies to bring her in.

“Oh good you’re awake,” he remarked setting down his shotgun and closing the door behind him.

“Yeah, no thanks t’ you I might add,” she muttered rubbing circles into her temple where a dull headache emanated from last night. Her shoulder still stung from where the bullet had grazed her a few nights before but at least it was finally starting to heal up nicely.

“Here,” Gendry paused holding out his canteen, “-it’s just water,” he added when she shot him a suspicious look.

At least he wasn’t lying about that too. The liquid was cool and clean against the back of her throat as she tipped the canteen back in an eager attempt to ease the headache.

“Thanks,” She muttered, handing the bottle back to him as she wiped her mouth off on her sleeve. Glancing around she took stock of the sparse furniture, and the few cans of food set out on the table. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere between Harrenhalls' old city limits and the Trident,” Gendry shrugged, taking a sip of the canteen himself before sitting down in a chair at the kitchen table. “What were you doin’ this far south anyway?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

In truth she hadn’t known she was this close to Kingslanding. The stallion had been worth the bullets, the freys hardly seemed like the type to need horses after she had paid them a visit. The memory of that night still haunted her, though there had been something sickeningly satisfying about the way old man freys face sputtered and twisted when he realized who she was. That alone had made the trip worth the trouble. “Nothing,” She finally managed to reply, shaking her head to clear her thoughts as she scooted closer to the edge of the bed. “When’re we leaving?”

“Was just waitin’ for you to wake up,” He replied, getting up again to gather up his things.

Following his lead towards the door Arya wrinkled her nose when she inspected the knot of rope around her wrists. He was better at it than she was, she had to give him that. But before she could mention it her attention caught up with the realization that they only had one horse. “Seven hells you couldn’t have thought to steal my horse too?” She groaned.

“Sorry Princess couldn’t risk getting’ caught,” Gendry replied, the hand he offered to hoist herself up with left hanging when she stepped up into the saddle effortlessly again.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped fiddling with strands of hair from the mane.

“What? A princess?” he asked stepping up behind her again and shifting until they were seated comfortably back to chest.

“Yeah, I told you it’s Arya -just Arya.”

“Could’a fooled me _Arya_ , spoiled enough to run away from th’ law and stupid enough t’ get shot at.” Gendry snorted as he spurred the horse into a trot.

Elbowing him as best she could as she tried to hang on, Arya found her sour mood didn’t last long between his strong arms and the sight of the desert plains panning out before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah that happened, definitely not the last time we see the brotherhood. How do I know that? I literally only have the final chapter outlined FML but yeah... Also how many chapters can I write where one or both are tied up? guess we're all in for a surprise! 
> 
> Please don't forget to leave a kudos & a comment !

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this in all on 40 mins with no proof reading so theres a 100% chance I'll edit this within the next 24-48hrs lol  
> again this is only a ~sample~ 
> 
> If you liked it / want to read more please don't forget to leave a kudos & a comment!


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